Old Connections
by 1872 Longstreet
Summary: While Nick and Judy are working a case, a series of dead ends has left them and their Zootopian higher ups looking for some form of breakthrough. When an old coworker from Nick's days under Mr. Big makes an appearance, the duo jumps on the opportunity. However, this old contact still has bad blood with the fox officer, so the question is, what now?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

**I've had this idea for a little while. Was wondering if I posted, whether or not it would get any traction. **

"When exactly is he supposed too be here, again?"

Judy Hopps was agitated. She was a woman with a schedule and that schedule was currently under threat. She was waiting for the handyman to come and tend to her AC unit. But she couldn't wait long, it being almost a quarter to six, and she had to be at work at 6:30 in order to be a half hour ahead of all her coworkers.

_I can't let Wilde beat me again, _she thought.

So now, here she was, waiting for the handyman to show up, when she should have left five minutes ago.

"As I said before, he should be there around five-thirty Ms. Hopps." Was the landlady's monotone response. This was the second time Judy had questioned the poor armadillo in the past hour, slowly growing more desperate.

_Who does he think he is, making me wait- _Judy stopped that train of thought quickly. _Okay,_ _maybe he's having a bad day too, _she reasoned. _Maybe he got a flat tire or something. _

"Okay, I'm sorry," she said, dropping her ears as she calmed down. "I just-"

"Have an ongoing competition with your coworker to establish yourself as the perfect model of attendance," interrupted the landlady. "I know Ms. Hopps. We had this discussion last week."

"Sorry," Judy cringed out. _Today is just getting off to an awesome start. _She thought with not a hint of sarcasm at all.

"Mhmm." Was the last she said before the click of a hanging up phone sounded.

"So, I guess I'll just keep waiting," she mumbled.

Within a few minutes she heard a knocking on the door.

"Repairman. Anybody home?" Came a voice from behind the door.

"Oh thank heavens..." Judy whispered. She bolted to the door, and whipped it open. On the other side was the last animal she expected to see. Dholes, after all, were not the most common species. After a second, the surprise wore off and Judy remembered her manners. "Uh, yeah. Hi, come in."

He ducked through the doorway, as a canine just over a meter tall doesn't work with a just under a meter doorframe. Judy took a second to take him in visually.

His fur was a bizarre red, like terra cotta covered in dirt. The tips of his ears were a darker tint, more brown than red. His neck was lighter, similar to the color of dried mud. She would have like to have known his eye color, but he was wearing yellow tinted safety glasses.

He also had on a canvas jacket with fleece collaring, and a yellow shirt underneath. Wrapped around a pair of very worn out jeans with scorch marks, was a navy blue nylon tool belt that had more duct tape holding it together than the role in one of the pouches. Topping off his ensemble, was a faded gray-green field cap with some kind of insignia above the bill. In a rather bizarre twist, he was wearing a leather pistol holster on his hip. Instead of a pistol though, it held an assortment of wrenches. Judy did a double take on that one.

"So..." the dhole started, "I'm here to fix an AC unit, right?" He spoke with rather melodic accent. It reminded her of Mr. Big, but a little less adjusted. It almost sounded like Mamilian wasn't his primary language.

"Oh, yeah, yeah. Sorry, I just... uhmm..."

"Never seen a dhole before, or-"

"Oh, no!" Judy interrupted. "No it's just, I mean I have a few times, but what I mean is your accent. It's just that you sound like..." The dhole's face slowly furrowed his brow into a bemused expression. Before Judy could finish comparing this handyman fixing her air condition unit to one of the top mob bosses in Zootopia, she took pause realizing that such a statement might be rather rude. "Sorry, never mind. Forget it..."

"Ms... Hopps, was it?" He slowly responded. "I hate to sound rude, but I'm thinkin' dat we both got jobs to do."

"Oh, yeah. Yes, you're right." She said, and cleared her throat. "AC is busted. It sputters a little and dies and makes this weird clicking sound." She stepped aside and gestured into her room, granting him permission to enter.

A nod in response, followed by a glance in her direction as he walked in. "Model?"

She thought for a moment. _How am I supposed to know that? But I guess, to someone like him, it could be like not knowing your car model. _

"I haven't the slightest clue." She answered as she closed the door, leaving it slightly ajar. By the time she had turned around, he had already removed the device from the window and was unscrewing the back. _Wow, he works fast. _Then she realized a crucial detail that had not been brought up. "Sorry if I'm making you repeat yourself, but I didn't catch your name."

Without missing a beat, he replied, "I didn't give it." He didn't even stop fiddling with what looked like a fan motor.

_Alright then. _She thought, taking the chance to attempt some impromptu investigation. _Super Cop Judy Hopps is investigating. _"So who do I make the check out to?"

"You're building already paid me."

She deflated. _Crash and burn_. "Oh."

"If ya' want to know my name, Ms. Hopps, ask."

"Alright," her smile returned as she meshed her fingers together. "What is it?"

He stopped working for a moment and slowly turned. She could almost swear he was smiling faintly.

"Name's Albero."

"Well Albero-"

"Mister." He interrupted, returning to the task at hand.

"...Pardon?"

"It's Mr. Albero." He said, now with a noticeable grin, looking reminiscent of Nick in one of his snarky moods. "Albero is my surname."

"So does this mean you don't have a first name?"

"Oh, I do," he said, starting to lose some of the amusement from his voice. "I'm just tryin' to stay professional." Any comment Judy would have given was immediately silenced by the vocalization of a new arrival at the door.

"Uncle Vitto," came the voice of a young male coyote, walking up to the door.

Mr. Albero turned to the young pup and gave a short exclamation in some unfamiliar language. Not a rare happening in Zootopia, as such a large city was bound to have members of multiple nationalities, many of witch Judy had encountered. There was a fantastic salad bar down the street from her apartment that she liked to frequent, owned by a bison family from the Bovinian Empire. Wolford, who's family was from Volkaria, had unintentionally taught most of Precinct One a smattering of profanities. All the more rare for an unfamiliar language to cross her ears. The incomprehensible verbal exchange continued until the young pup got words caught in his mouth.

"... I... We're going to be late. I can't be late for school, Uncle Vitto." He seemed to not be as fluent as the dhole, clearly having learned the language secondarily.

The dhole huffed, and muttered something under his breath. "You can't change pronouns, Walt. It's 'I' or 'we', and I'm not da one who's going to be late if you keeps arguing with me, yeah?"

"Fine."

The room was silent again as Mr. Albero finished his work. It wasn't long before the AC unit was back in the window, and cool air was flowing out without the loud screeching that used to accompany it. All was done in less than fifteen minutes.

"Wow," Judy stated after a glance at her watch. "You're good."

Mr. Albero huffed and smiled while putting his tools away. "Well, if I was you, I'd hold off on dat Yelp review for a few day's to make sure it works." He stood up and walked out the door. "Come on Walt, or you're gonna be late!"

"Coming!" He threw his book in his bag while putting it over his shoulder, then stopped to turn around. "Have a nice day, Miss police lady," and he was gone.

* * *

**6:43 AM**

**1st ZPD Precinct **

Judy hustled through the hallway out of the First Precinct's locker-room into the main lobby, still fastening her vest across her chest. _I think I can still get there before-_

"Oh hello Carrots, finally decided to show up for work did you?" Was the reynard ever not smug?

She sighed. "Hi Nick," she breathed, already frustrated with the days to come of his victory dangled over her head. She turned toward the hall leading to the bullpen, and observed the familiar sight of the fox leaning against the wall a cup of coffee in each paw. On this particular instance, one cup had a small sliver of cinnamon, presumably acting as a stirring stick. The other had it's seasonal purple Bears & Bucks Coffee top still on it.

She pointed to the cup sans cinnamon. "Mine is pumpkin spice, right?"

He gave her a befuddled look. "This is a chocolate mocha... for Wolfard."

Raised eyebrow, cocked ears, and a paw on her hip was her response. _Come on Slick, not today._

"What," he shot back to her nonverbal retort. "You think I'm joking?"

Other paw out and both eyebrows up. _You always are, dumb fox._

"I'm serious, Carrots!" He insisted vehemently. "I got here early in a rush, forgot my shades and coffee, so he gave me his Oaklynxes." Nick held up the sunglasses, further testifying to his conspiracy. "I offered him coffee since I needed mine anyways, so... and, I might add, you were late."

She walked up and snatched the foam cup out of his grip. "Why's it a quarter?" she asked in reference to the quarter liter size cup. _I'm not that gullible today, Slick._

Nick huffed. "Danny doesn't like a lot of coffee." Judy half listened as she put the cup to her lips. "So he usually doesn't get-"

"What the..." she interrupted suddenly, before she took a sip. She held the cup up to her nose. "Really?"

The smugness returned to the fox's face yet again. "Yep. I think it has something to do with Canines and caffeine-"

"You seriously didn't get me coffee?" Her tone had changed, and Nick's face reacted appropriately.

Ears back and a glimmer of fear filled his eyes. He had only now realized his mistake of prolonging his smugness, when he should have apologized. Despite being friends for almost a year now, Nick still hadn't fully figured out when to be tactful with Judy. Usually, in the mornings or around lunch, and as he was discovering today, especially in regards to her morning coffee.

"Now on for a second, Fluff," he said, holding up his paws in a peaceful gesture. "Be reasonable."

"Stop."

His mouth clamped shut.

"Just... you can get me coffee when we go on patrol."

Nick released his baited breath, and his face flooded with relief. With the return of a friendly smile, the two started towards the bullpen. "No problem, Carrots. Pumpkin spice espresso, as soon as we get our assignment."

The two officers made their way into the bullpen, where most of the other on duty officers were chatting away with one another before Bogo showed up in a few seconds. Fangmyer and Delgato were talking about some music concert that Delgato's daughter was going to that weekend, Rhinowitz and Snarlov were talking about a movie, and Grizzoli was listening to Wolford talk about his anniversary in a few days.

"Hey Danny, got your coffee, bud." Nick said while offering the wolf his relatively small caffeine shot. Judy went ahead to claim the duos usual sea as close to the chief's podium as possible. After a brief exchange of gratitude for favors rendord, Nick joined his partner in their shared chair.

"Still can't belive you didn't get me coffee," Judy muttered.

Nick rolled his eyes with a sigh. "Ugh, really Carrots? Are you going to hold onto that all day? You were late, I beat you, and I'll get you one later. In fact, I'll even throw in a half dozen beignets from Doe's Bakery just to make you happy."

Judy grinned, but before she could respond, Nick cut her off with, "but we're splitting those."

Before she could protest that remark, Higgins walked into the room. "Heads up!"

With that, the bullpen erupted into the cacophony of the duty officers' grunts, growls, and rhythmic desk-bashing. Even Nick and Judy postponed their conversation and joined in on bumping the table, albeit with less impetus than those of the higher weight class officers. After a second or two, Chief of Police Adrian Bogo walked into the room, a manila folder in his grasp. Without looking up from the contents of the file, he made his way to the podium and held up a hoof.

"Alright, shut up everyone," Bogo stated to silence the room, finally looking up. "We've got lots to get to, today."

"Good morning to you too Chief."

"I'll make it a poor one if you don't shut it Wilde," the Chief shot back without even looking at the fox. Before Nick could respond in turn, Bogo added, "and take off the sunglasses. We're indoors, and you look like a twit."

Nick made an impish face. "Don't think inner city police Chief with pickup truck-"

"Alright!" The Chief was looking at him now. "One more word and you'll be on court duty for the rest of the month."

That got the desired reaction. The one stick that every precinct chief had over every officer was court duty. The most insubordinate officer could be brought to heel with the threat of waking up to get to court before 6:00 in the morning, stay awake and stand for hours, and watch over a preceding of two insurance attorneys rambling on about recorded invoices, talking about the discrepancy of when the invoices were requested by once council and when the other council received the request for sending the recordings. Or some other similar situation.

"Alright," Bogo cleared his throat. "We've got a few things on the agenda today, and a few updates from yesterday. First up, if you've noticed, Edward isn't with us-"

As everyone took note of the absent white wolf, Officers Francine and Fangmeyer shouted out in unison, "Boy or girl?"

For the past few days, Officer Edward Barkson had been exiting the entire precinct with news of his first pup. As the due date approached, everyone had been speculating on the details of the expected while Edward refused to release any information until the pup had been born. The elephant and tiger had been particularly invested. Judy as well, but had acted with much more subtlety.

Bogo pulled his glasses down, peering over the rims. Without que, the room gave a drum roll.

"At 322 grams, the newest addition to the Barkson family... is Richard-"

A trumpet blare blasted over the rest of the cheers and hollers that filled the room. It took a moment for everyone to settle down again, before Bogo could resume the mornings briefing. "Now, that being said, Edward will be on leave for the rest of the week, so we'll be breaking up his patrol routes. Fangmeyer, Delgato, you got expanded to cover Mesa Street and west."

The two officers walked out, taking the folder of all information needed for the day's duty. Group by group, assignments were given out. Daily patrol routes, assistance to Tundratown Road Commission for traffic control, dispatching for a few warrants, and so on. Until one of the last pairs left in the bullpen was the dynamic fox-rabbit duo.

"Wild, Hopps... I'd like to get an update on that special assignment. In my office."

After the room had cleared out, the pair made their way to the Chief's office to await the news of any developments in their special case.

For past few days, Nick and Judy had been assigned as liaisons to the Zootopian International Commerce Regulatory Office. Specifically, they had been coordinating as ZPD overseers for the Contraband Enforcement Division, who had been investigating a rising narcotics gang. The Fifteenth December Syndicate, also known as the Dicembra Nostra, was a coalition of criminals that had partaken in every form of illicit act from mammal trafficking, manufacture and distribution of restricted substances, to arms trafficking and murder. Although they had predominantly operated in the oversees nation of Rodentia, recent developments hint towards a potential intercontinental threat.

"So Hopps, you've had almost a week to find leads. What have you got?"

Unfortunately for Nick and Judy, 'liaisons' as it turns out, was bureaucrat speak for 'do all our field work, and we'll handle the prosecution in court'. Essentially, the two police officers, with less than a half dozen years of experience between them, had been tasked to root out an international crime cartel. How hard could it be?

"We got squat," Nick summarized.

Judy mouth, which was still open and just about to give an elaborated explanation, clamped shut. "Yeah, we've been looking into all of our own drug cases over the past ten months, but those have all been local gangs. If we had more information on who to look for-"

"Classified."

"I know, but we can't just go through every single drug, arms trafficker, or hitman looking for some connection to an organization from another country that Zootopia doesn't have good relations with."

Bogo crossed his arms and huffed. "What we need to start looking at is the ones we haven't found yet. You know their main products are amphetamine, mephedrone, and other stimulants. If you can't find anything, start over and look closer."

Nick nodded along with the Chief. "Look for higher cases of stimulant usage in specific areas."

"Exactly. In the meantime, I want you to patrol the Canal District. We've had a string of B-and-Es, mostly in automotive parts stores. "

Judy's eyebrows rose in curiosity slightly. "What've they been stealing?"

"Carburetors and air filters."

"... Just those?"

"That's it."

"Hmm. Alight then."

* * *

**Later that morning**

**Canal District**

"Okay Carrots, here's your pumpkin spice caffeine free-"

His paw was empty before he closed the cruiser door. Having just gone on their 'pre-patrol snack grab', the buddy cop team was now fully stockpiled with a box of cereal, a bag of turkey jerky, and an assortment of candy bars.

"Thanks Slick."

Nick turned the ignition and pulled into traffic. There was yet to be too many cars on the road yet. This area of the Canal District was mostly residential, and of a higher income, so there would be another hour or so before most animals started to get to work. Nick made it past a few intersections before they even saw another vehicle on the road. A light mist blanketed the ground, with a thin coating of dew of the grass from the previous night. Which, come to think of last night...

"So..." Judy started. "How was the date last night?"

"Huh?" Nick stumbled for a second. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, it was pretty good. She took me to a hockey game."

Judy laughed at that. "Hahaha. I forgot about that. She asked _you _out, right?"

"Yep, I had to get a new phone..." Nick shifted a glare in her direction. A pointed gaze with an accusatory expression. "Since _someone_ got mine wet weekend when she _just had to_-"

"Yeah, yeah! I get it!" She held up a paw to silence him. "But," she said with a smile. "It did work out in the end, yes? You got a date out of it."

The foxes face light up with faux surprise. "Oh I get it! This was all some elaborate plan to hook me up with a date. You sly bunny you. How ignorant and oblivious-"

"Well it worked, didn't it?" Her voiced rose over his. "Anyway," she made to change the subject, taking a sip of her coffee. "What happened after? And what was her name again?"

Nick took a second to check the intersection before turning. Judy had noticed he seemed to be a particularly cautions driver, even more noticeably when compared to her rather careless style. While Nick did have a license, and claimed to drive extensively while in high school, he did seem to take public transport more often. Judy, contrastingly, had grown up going sixty on dirt roads, dodging turkeys, before she was in high school. Her dad was classmates with the county sheriff, and underage driving was as common as carrots.

"Sarah."

"Huh?" Judy was the one who stumbled that time, having been engrossed in her thoughts on automotive operating styles.

While Nick could have jumped on her for not listening to the answer of the question she asked, he passed. He had other stuff to give a hard time about later. "My date. Her name was Sarah."

Judy scoffed at that. "Really?"

Now Nick was confused. "Yeah, why? What's so big about that?"

"Oh come on, Slick. Sarah? Works for a phone company?" A blank stare was all she got back. "You never saw that show?"

Nick shrugged. "I'm at a lose Carrots! I swear, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Judy waved him off and huffed. "Oh, what ever. It was my dad's favorite show growing up, and... never mind. How'd the rest of the date go?"

"Well, after the game, I took her to this restaurant by my place. It's more of a sandwich deli, really, but still has good food. And service is fast, so you don't have to wait forever."

Judy hummed in response before Nick got the jump on her "Sort of like how I waited for you at work this morning."

"Ugh, get over it Nick." She said, putting her face in her paws. "It was the first time."

The smugness had returned. "But your first time being late, Fluff. I can't-"

"Now hold on there, Slick. I was _not _late-"

"Such a disappointment to all the young Junior ZPD officers-"

"I wasn't late!"

"Next thing you know you'll be showing up hungover and-"

"You're insufferable, you know that."

He turned to her. "I'm irresistible. That's why you still bothered to show up to work. Your life wouldn't be complete without me. I knew it."

"What I find irresistible is a working AC unit. I had to call a repairman in to fix it. Which is why I was _almost _late." Judy finished off her coffee and pulled up her phone, having thought she felt it buzz.

Nick pulled into a turn. The Canal District was starting to get a little more lively as they pulled into a commercial area. A few gas stations, dinners, and hardware stores lined the streets. Among them was a few car parts stores they had been tasked with observing. She could feel Nick get ever so slightly on edge as traffic picked up. She knew for a fact that he was in a minor fender-bender in his high school days, which gave him a wariness with other drivers after weekends.

"So, did you have some handsome, strapping, young buck come and fix something for the doe in distress?"

Judy smirked at the thought. "Yeah, you'd get a kick out of that, wouldn't you. But no, he was a dhole actually. Had a funny accent too."

"You catch his name?"

"Yeah. It was… something flowery."

That made Nick huff in bewilderment. "What, like Daffodil or something?"

"No," Judy sighed in frustration, trying to remember the dhole's sure name. "It wasn't a flower, it just sounded..."

"...Flowery?"

She sighed again. "Yeah."

A moment of silence fell between the two. Judy groaned and pulled her ears over her face. _And he seemed like such a nice guy, too. It was just this morning._ While she was racking her brain, Nick was still hung up on try to decipher the bunny's explanation. "Azalea?"

"Wha… no!" She smacked his arm. "Not an actual- Oh! Wait, yeah!"

He rubbed his arm and replied, "If that was right, then why'd you hit me?"

She gave an annoyed look. "Because it's not Azalea. It was Albero."

Nick slammed on the breaks. The light was green and the intersection clear. "What the heck Nick!"

"_Vittorio Albero_?" Judy, who was still startled by the sudden stop, simply looked at him. "A dhole named Vittorio Albero. Had an accent like Mr. Big? Hat with a little emblem on it? Wears yellow tinted safety glasses?"

"You know him?"

Nick paused and looked forward, while the light turned from green, to yellow, to red. No one was behind them luckily. He didn't answer at first.

"I'll tell ya' Judy..." She took notice of her name. A barely noticeable mix of fear and regret was in his eyes.

"That's a Hell of a story."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**

**Sorry for the delay. Anybody catch the reference from the last chapter? **

* * *

The rest of the shift went on as per usual, mostly. A young maral deer buck was suspected at a few of the scenes, but with little other description to go off of, their potential suspects list wasn't narrowed by any realistic margin.

The real theme of the day had been Nick maintaining his silence. Not saying much else for the rest of the shift, beyond what was necessary, he spent most of the time reserved to his own thoughts. Whenever Judy tried to coax that 'Hell of a story', or at least a piece of it, he would brush her off with a _'Not now, Carrots'_. He had to figure out how to tell this story of his. Once their patrol was over, the duo walked into the precinct with a exchange of greetings with the cheetah receptionist.

"Hey you two," Clawhauser said. When only Judy responded in kind, he took notice of Nick's reserved mood. As he walked past the front desk, the rabbit and feline watched the fox head to the locker room. Judy stayed behind to chat with the chubby cheetah, undoubtedly with him as a subject of conversation.

_Well, they can talk about me all they want,_ he thought. _But how am I going to talk to Judy about this?_

After showering and putting on his casual cloths, a pair of athletic shorts and a sweatshirt, he walked back out to the front desk. The lobby was painted in the orange glow of the evening sun, casting a long, contrasting shadow of the vulpine officer. As he leaned against the front desk, he pulled out his phone and pretended to be engrossed in the device while waiting for Judy to come out.

"So..." Clawhauser started, trying to make conversation with the unusually reserved fox. "How'd the date go last night? With Samantha?"

"Sahara; and it went well. She took me to a hockey game and I took her to dinner." The lack of eye contact on the part of Nick spoke of his investment in the conversation. Not long a wait after, although still uncomfortably silent, Judy walked out in her oversized shirt and leggings, still a little wet from her own shower.

_Still don't get her 'towel air dry' method. Got to be a country thing._

The moment the two made eye contact, Judy could tell Nick wanted to talk. She steadied herself, pulled out her ear buds, and made her way towards him as he did the same while stowing his phone in a pocket in his sweatshirt. When they wear at each others feet, Nick failed to keep eye contact.

"Nick, I know this is bugging you." A shrug was what she got, and she sighed. "But... this is also something you don't want to talk about."

Nick breathed in sharply. "Well I wouldn't say that."

Her eyes widened slightly at that. She leaned in closer. "So, you do want to talk," she pressed.

He hummed and rolled his shoulders. "Maybe..." He looked around and made sure no one was in immediate earshot. Looking down at his feet, he mumbled under his breath, barely audible, "Buck's. About eleven-thirty."

And with that, he walked out.

* * *

Buck's was an older bar just outside Savanah Central, across the Oude Graver Bridge in the Rainforest District. Ironically owned by a coyote, the establishment was almost one hundred years old, and was currently being run by the third generation of the original owner. Zane Reinheart, Jr. ran the bar with his fiancé, ironically both former alcoholics going fifteen years sober.

According to any regular patron, and most stopping by, Buck's had the best rum in all of Zootopia. Apparently, Otto, a cousin of Zane's, owned a sugarcane plantation on some tropical island far to the south. Nick especially favored the rum toddy, which he occasionally ordered after a particularly long week or an unusually rough day.

Judy, having thrown on a dirty flannel shirt and shorts, sat in the chair across from the fox. When a waitress came by, she ordered a simple whiskey and soda, while Nick held his toddy close. He seemed to have taken a few sips, but was preferring the warmth of the cocktail in his paws, rather than his stomach.

"You know, their wedding is scheduled for this November," said Nick. "Zane has a pastor uncle, and she likes fall colors."

Judy took a sip from her drink, and played along with Nick's stalling. "You know, I've never met her."

That got a genuine reaction out of the fox. "Really?" He looked up in slight surprise, a smile tugging at the corner of his face. "I think you might like her. She's a little... eccentric. Kind of like Benji, but less Gazelle obsession."

"She used to be an alcoholic though, right?"

"Yeah, she got hooked in college. Year after she graduated, something happened. Made her want to go sober. Met Zane in recovery. You should hear Zane tell it. I mean, it's a Hell of a-"

_Damnit Nick._ He thought. _Good wording there. _

He sighed and took a heavy sip from his drink. It's warmth was fading, and he was going to need a some liquid courage for this one. He gave Judy a cold look. Any amusement or joy was absent, replaced by nervousness and focus.

"Your ears are not with your badge, got it?"

Now Judy was on edge. Her ears shot strait up and forward.

"I'm serious Judy. _This does not leave this table_, okay?" He emphasized the table, as if the table was some sworn witness in to his confession.

Judy took a moment to process that. She had known Nick had walked the line of the law, but had he actually done something so egregious to warrant her reporting him? Arresting him? "Nick... I can't just..."

She pulled her ear's over her face for a second, grimacing as her head attempted to concoct some type of answer. All the while Nick sat there, agonizingly waiting for her response. When she looked back at him with worry on her face, she attempted to get a clear image, trying to giver her brain more information to work with.

"You didn't... hurt-"

Nick put his paws up at that. "No no no. No, nothing like-... I didn't... _kill_ anybody or anything."

That seemed to relax her, if only slightly. Her shoulders were still tight and her eyes darted back and forth, mentally trying to arrange her thoughts. Eventually, after rubbing her arms, she took a sizable gulp from her drink and sighed. "Alright Slick," she said with a breath. "I won't tell a soul about this. On my word as a Hopps."

Nick huffed a chuckle. "Ha. Well, in that case..." And with that, he threw back the rest of his drink.

* * *

_"It was about ten years ago when I first met him. I was working for Mr. Big back then. It was a pretty cold October day when I got called for a meeting..."_

No matter how many times Nick came to the _Dimori don Grandi, _or as he liked to call it 'the Big House', he never got used to the polar bear guards. Not that he was intimidated by them as polar bears, or their size, or the fact that they could crush him like a grape. What really intimidated him was the look in their eyes that said that they _would_ do that given the need.

On this particular afternoon, he was currently waiting in the hallway, right outside the door to Mr. Big's business office. He had received a summons phone call a few days prior, and although he had made plans for that weekend, no one missed a meeting with Mr. Big. After about an half hour of waiting, the polar bear guard gave the 'okay' and opened the door.

The room was actually a nice size, considering it's usual occupant. A desk in one corner, a few book cases, a fireplace, a large rug in the center of the floor, and a few chairs of various sizes organized around the perimeter. Its current occupants, aside from the red fox, were two wolves in suits on intermediate corners, a polar bear behind the desk, and a small chair on said desk.

"Nicholas, welcome," said the vole. "Have a seat, please. I apologize for the wait."

Nick approached the desk, and took a seat opposite Mr. Big. "No problem at all Sir. I assume this is important if you asked me to come on such short notice."

The shrew simply nodded in the direction of one of the guards. One of the wolves nodded in response, and walked out of the room. Once he had left, Mr. Big waved to one of the seats. "Have a seat, Nicholas. How've you been?"

Nick sank into the chair. Hand carved mezquite wood, it was a very professional design and rather comfortable to boot. "Oh, same old, same old."

"How's business with your new partner? I've heard he's rather adversarial."

Nick had been working with Finnick for less than a month. the fact that Mr. Big could ascertain information so quickly (and with depth) never ceased to surprise Nick. Not that he ever showed it. "Yes, well he's... not quite used to my more subtle business techniques. And I think his last partner cut him out of about four-hundred-fifty grand and tried to... cut ties."

"Understandable. If I were in your position I would suggest-"

Mr. Big's attention was pulled suddenly with the return of the canine guard, with a new guest in tow. A dhole, a teenager by the look of him, dressed in a t-shirt, jeans, oversized orange coat, and a pair of yellow tinted safety glasses. A greenish-grey hat was tucked into his back pocket, and a black backpack with Hi-Vis orange tape forming a zig-zag pattern across the sides was slung over his shoulder.

"Ah, Vitto. You're here now."

The dhole replied in another language, rattling off what Nick assumed to be greetings and pleasantries. Although not remotely fluent in the language of Roditi, he had heard a few residents of the Big House slip a sentence or two in the melodic tongue. After the Rodenti-Apennisti Civil War, and the proceeding creation of the puppet-state of the Roedinteiro Solidarity, the language had become something of an international rarity. Even most of Little Rodentia Borough had lost the ear for their homelands language.

"Vitto, this is Nicholas Wilde." And with his name, Nick stood and turned to shake paws with the young canine.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance..."

"Likewise, Mr. Wilde," he replied, accepting the offered paw. "Vittorio Albero, you can call me Cable."

Nick cringed a little at the honorifics. "Just Nick, if you don't mind. I'm only twenty-three, and I'm not ready to be my old man yet."

Cable was about to reply, when a yawn escaped his mouth instead of words. _He's tiered._ Nick thought._ And shouldn't he be in school right now? _Nick could just barely hear a sigh from Mr. Big, before the mob boss spoke up. "Vitto, how many times must I tell you-"

Cable took amidite notice of Mr. Big's reprimand. "No, no," he interrupted. "Don't start that now. We're about to do a job, we can talk when I get back."

"When you get back, you're going home."

Cable put his paws up in a surrender fashion. "Fine."

Nick stepped back, hoping to avoid getting pulled into the discussion. The dialog between the two seemed rather informal, as if the relationship was more than professional. How could some teenage dhole be on familiar terms with the most infamous _Il Capri?_

"Now," Mr. Big started. "Nick here is going to take you to the meet. You know what to do, yes?"

"Level four import, short packing, unmarked. Price negotiable, right?"

A grin crossed the shrew face. "Very good. McMean will be waiting."

It was then that Nick decided to inquire as to the specifics of the job. "So where am I going?"

That drew the attention of the shrew back to Nick. "North. Vittorio is to meet an associate of mine in Antlerson's Cove. You are going to make sure he gets there on time, tonight. The meet is at Barker Yard, Pier 9."

"Wait," Nick interrupted, and pointed to the young dhole. "Him?"

That drew the ire of the shrew, causing Nick to find himself on the receiving end of two rather unfriendly pairs of eyes. While it wasn't the first time Nick had slipped up, and it mostly certainly wouldn't be the last. This time, however, felt different; personal even.

"Vittorio is one of my most trusted allies, and my personal _relazione_." That surprised Nick. A _'__relazione' _was the personal messenger of a family's patriarch, and is a mammal that usually holds considerable authority in the family business. A slight against a _'relazione'_ is tantamount to insulting the patriarch himself.

"I get it." Luckily, Nick had an out that time. "Sixteen, high school, can't drive..." Cable shrugged.

"Regardless," Mr. Big regained control. "He needs to be there eleven O' clock tonight, and be back before nine tomorrow morning."

"Do I get a car, or do I use my own?"

"Vitto will explain the transportation situation."

Nick turned to the dhole, who shrugged and gestured towards the door. "Let's go. I've got other things to get done."

Mr. Big, however, had one last thing to say. "Vittorio," he said, getting the attention of the young Albero. "_Fi attentizione, resto vivo."_

"Always. _Vale, Osservisanto," _he replied with a grin. His first display of real emotion, as far as Nick had seen. "Let's go Nick."

After heading out, the fox and dhole duo found themselves in a parking lot outside a gas station. Cable had guided him here to stash his car and pick up a temporary replacement. A simple four door blue sedan, specifically chosen to be as inconspicuous as possible. Much more so than Nick's yellow classic, that would've probably drawn more attention than what was wanted.

"You know where Route 227 overpasses Bluegill Avenue?" Cable asked once they were both in the car.

"Uh... yeah, I think so."

"We're going there first."

With that the two were off. It wasn't long until Nick grew uncomfortable with the silence. Nick, a tod who strived to have as many connections as possible, tried to fill the conversation void by making an attempt to acquaint himself with his new charge. "So... you don't look like a Big."

"I'm an Albero." He replied without pause.

"Well yeah, but isn't a _relazione _supposed to be family?"

Cable still refused to take his eyes off the window and the passing scenery. "Not family like '_famiglia'._ _'__Quellavicini' _is what I is. Inner Circle."

"And how'd did... you...?"

"A sixteen year old foster kid get dat job?"

Nick internally flinched at that. When he looked over at Cable, he could see that the dhole hadn't meant for that bit to slip out. "Foster, huh." It wasn't as much of a question as Nick had hoped.

"Turn right up here, next block."

_Nice subject change,_ Nick thought. Silence fell again.

As he turned the corner, Cable spoke up with, "it was my mother."

"How's that?"

He didn't answer that one.

Instead, he pointed to a house a few driveways down the road. A large, two story building, it stood out among the other single story houses on the block. Brown and red vinyl wood siding, dark brown roof tiles covered most of the house. A porched in front door was sandwiched between a two door garage and a bay window. Although not necessarily run down, the house did seem to be rather getting on in years. Cracks in the driveway, different colored porch lights, a dent in the one of the garage doors all added to the story of lived in house. "There."

He pulled to a stop at the edge of the driveway, when Cable turned to him and spoke with a pointed digit. "Remember dis. You listening?"

An affirmative nod from Nick was apparently not satisfactory for him, as Cable shook his head and pushed, "verbal."

"Yes, I'm listening."

He reached in to his bag and pulled out a small card holder. Ad he pulled out a simple blue business card, he explained the situation. "You work for the Deerbrooke County Road Commission. We got to attend a union meeting on snow plowing for dis winter, and you're new. Got it?"

Nick took the card; _DCRC_. Below that were corresponding address, phone number, CB radio frequency, and even a fax number. "Are you really in the union?"

"Yes," he grunted as he got out of the car. "Back in a second."

As he made his way to the door, a pronghorn doe opened it as he went for the handle. While Nick couldn't hear the ensuing conversation, he was still decent at reading facial expressions. The exchange was rather brief, and a confrontational undertone was clear in their posture, but the two did maintain civility. When the young dhole moved past the doe, her shoulders slumped and a look of sympathy came across her eyes.

Her face rose in surprise when she finally took note of the fox watching from the street, and she began to make her way towards him. Unfortunately, she forgot to close the door, and a young zebra colt bolted out the door headed right for the road.

"Oh jeeze!" Nick shouted, scrambling out of the car. Luckily, the colt turned incoming to Nick around the car, allowing the fox to grab the kid, putting a halt to the escapade.

"I am so sorry, sir," said the doe. "He thinks he's on the national Track and Field team."

Nick gave a casual smile. "It's fine ma'am. Kids can be a handful. Or, at least that's what my mother would tell me."

She stuck out her hoof. "Yaeli Klandenski."

"Nick Wilde." He shook the offered hoof.

The zebra colt continued to struggle, while asking for release. "Down?"

"No," she stated authoritatively. A smile came across her face when she turned back to Nick. "And this little rascal is Kendrick Mahone."

Nick laughed, and the two adults stood quietly for an awkward moment.

"So..." Nick started. "You're a foster parent?"

She shook her head, as if clearing her thoughts. "Uhm, yeah. Yes, me and my husband, we have six kids."

"Well that's-"

"How do you know Vittorio?" She interrupted.

That took Nick back for a second. His mind quickly picked up the slack as his con artist skills kicked into gear. "The union. Road commission."

"For plowing?"

"Yep."

"Deerbrook township?"

Nick pulled out the card. "Uh, county, yes. Not-"

She held up her free hoof. "I don't need the card. Vittorio has a dozen."

"Yeah," Nick hummed. "He seems like pretty put together guy."

"He's a kid."

That particular fact was one that Nick had been mentally avoiding for the past few hours. While sixteen wasn't particularly young, it was still far too young to be involved with the mob, and being a labor union member. That's a lot of work for your average foster kid in high school. Which reminded Nick...

"Why isn't he in school?"

She sighed at that. Taking a quick pause, she responded. "He has ego problems. He's gotten into a few fights..."

Any further conversation was interrupted by a sharp whistle. Cable had returned, now carrying a duffle bag in place of his back pack. He looked at the two adults talking with a suspicious glare, as if the two had been colluding against him. _How long has he been in the Mafia?_

Cable walked down the gravel path to the car. With a click of his tongue and a circling motion with his paw, he signaled his urgency to leave. Before he could get in the car however, Yaeli pulled him aside. The young colt in one arm, she grab him by the shoulder and looked him dead in the eyes. "Please be safe."

"It's a union meeting, not dangerous."

She sighed in mild frustration, with a pleading look in her eyes. "Then be carful anyways."

He looked at her with an expressionless gaze. After a moment of emotional tension, he opened the car door, and tossed his backpack in. Nick had assumed he would simply brush her off and close the door on her concern, but he was surprised when he didn't. Instead, he spun back and threw his arms around her.

"I'll be fine, Elly."

As he pulled away and sat sown in the car, she had one last barrage for him.

"Overnight, right?"

"Yes."

"Toothbrush?"

"Yes."

"Homework?"

"_Yes._"

"Change of cloths?"

"_YEAH._"

"...Pajamas?"

"... Nick, lets go now!"

Nick quietly, rather as quietly as he could, chuckled to himself. "Alright, I'm coming." He slid down into the car, and went to close the door. But before he shut it, a thought popped into his head, and he grinned. "And don't worry, Mrs. Klandenski. I'll keep him safe... and make sure he brushes his teeth."

* * *

The two partners in crime drove out of down town in silence, until they reached the outer limits of the Rainforest District. That's when Cable spoke up. "Take 18th Avenue, and pull off into Maintenance Tunnel 6B."

"We're using a maintenance tunnel?"

"Yeah. No cameras." He began rummaging around in his duffle bag.

Nick was slightly curious about what he had in there. Given the situation they were going to, and that he seemed to have pre-packed it, it must have been some kind of bug-out bag. Setting aside that thought, Nick voiced another thought of his. "How do you know about the cameras?"

"I put in lots on dis route. Part of dis new ZTA project. Jam Cams, or somethin'."

Nick hummed at that. _I'll have to remember that_ one, he thought. As he pulled into the side tunnel, he received further instructions.

"When you get out, take a left onto Acadia Alley, and-"

Nick, despite his better judgment, had to stop the young mobster. "No no. I know how to get out of town, bud."

"So do I."

"You take Rio Street to the highway, and if we're going to Antlerson's Cove, we need to get on Route 44."

Cable gave an irate glare, and huffed. "I know. I work for the ZTA's Bureau of Roadway Maintenance. You don't think I know dat?"

"Alright then," Nick said. "Why would you take Acadia and not Rio Street? That adds four blocks to the highway."

"'Cause Rio Street is under construction, and Barkville Avenue is a one way now on to Acadia. Which means, you can only take Acadia."

That confused Nick. "Since when? I was just there this morning."

"Cones were out about three."

Nick was about to ask how he could know about that, when he remembered what Cable had just said. He also recalled the orange jacket, safety glasses, and high-vis backpack the young dhole had been wearing earlier. "You were working on that today, weren't you?"

Cable was about to give a retort, but cut himself off. Taking a moment, he replied with "maybe," out of the corner of his mouth.

Another small point that Nick caught. A change from assertiveness to a passive reluctance, trying to hide half of what he says. _He's_ _sixteen_, Nick remembered. Labor laws in Zootopia city limits did allow for the employment of minors, but that was restricted by the authorization of parents or guardians. There was also truancy guidelines in effect during the school year. _But he's on expulsion._

Nick tried to keep the smile off his face, but his pride got the better of him. "They pay you under the table," he said through a crocodile's smile.

"Not dat big a deal," he said defensively. "Just can't let the Commission know about it."

"Does Yaeli know?"

That got a notable reaction out of the young dhole. "What! No!"

Nick shrugged. "Shouldn't she? That's kind of important information. Where does she think you go if you're not in school?"

"Library, and dis chat is done."

With that, the two fell silent.

* * *

**4 HOURS LATER**

Not long after the two left city limits, the setting sun finally fell below the horizon. Aside from occasional discussion on directions, not conversation was had between the two. As the red and purple sky was replaced by the blue and grey of a cloudy night, the cold November air let loose the beginning of its first snow.

"Alright," said Cable. "Next rest stop, pull in."

"Hungry?"

"You ain't?"

Nick shrugged. "Could eat."

"Okay."

After another few minutes of driving, the sky grew darker, and snow was beginning to noticeably accumulate. Off to the side of the road about a mile ahead, stood a tall neon lit up sign, advertising gas. At half past Nine, Nick pulled up to the pump. Aside from the silhouette of the camel inside, there wasn't a soul at the station. Once they had pulled themselves out of the car, stretched, and made their way inside. Freshly fallen snow crunched beneath their feet, finally bring Nick's attention to the fact that he hadn't developed his winter coat.

As the two walked into the building, Cable pulled out wallet, and handed a small wad of cash to Nick. "Bottle of Dr. Fizz, bag of turkey jerky, potato chips, and whatever you want."

"Where you going?"

"Take a leak."

Nick walked around the 7/Eweleven store, picking out the aforementioned items. He picked out a few things for himself; a turkey and cheese sandwich, a vitamin water, some corn chips, a cream soda, and a black baseball cap. Just as he was finishing the payment, Cable returned from the restroom. "You get the stuff?"

Nick held up the bottle of Dr. Fizz and a bag of turkey jerky as his answer.

"Great. Lets go."

Cable waved to the cashier before walking out. Despite only being in the store for five minutes at most, snow had accumulated up about tow inches. The cold air had become much more noticeable. Nick pulled his hoodie close around him, a futile effort to stave off the biting air. He quickly threw himself into the car, and turned on the heat.

"Alright," Cable got his attention, reaching into his duffle bag. "Before we take off again-"

Nick's eyes bulged for a split second when he saw the gun in the teenager's hand. "Whoa! What-"

"Calm down, fox." He held the pistol out by the barrel, the handle offered to Nick.

Nick, realizing he hadn't been gunned down in a gas station parking lot, let his senses return. Clearing his throat, he made to push the gun aside. "I'm fine. I'm just a driver any-"

"Don't matter. Things go bad, they kill us both."

Nick was a relationship guy. He made his way by out-witting his adversaries, or making friends out of them. While he wasn't a stranger to violence, and had been in his fair share of scuffles, taking the life of a fellow being. "I don't do... violence."

"Not up to you."

"I'm not taking the gun. I've talked myself out of plenty of problems-"

Cables voice rose. "Not a problem like this."

"I'm not taking the gun! You're a kid, you shouldn't even have to be here!"

"Well I am!" Cable stated flatly. "And so are you. And dat means we could end up in a shootout. Chances are, you ain't even gonna need it."

Nick, realizing he was fighting the inevitable, reached out to the pistol. "Then why do I need it?"

"Incase I need cover fire. Now watch, this is your mag release..."

As the teenage dhole explained the basics of the firearm, Nick's mind drifted to the thought of what he had gotten himself into this time. He had seen dead bodies, including some unfortunate victims of the Big family. He had always known what really went on in those back rooms and alleys at night. But he never thought he might end up being the one to gun down some poor soul, or get it himself. And what of the kid explaining all this to him? How had such a young child filled with potential and work ethic be pulled into this world?

The only thing Nick knew for certain, was the next few hours would reveal much about both of them.


	3. Chapter 3

There was a gun in his pocket.

That's all Nick could process fully. A Schönauer Model 19/22, 7.5mm auto-loading, single stack pistol. The curved edging of the slide with a matte-gray coat was complemented elegantly by the textured Cherrywood grips. Not that the make and model of the weapon made the current situation any less surreal. The weight remained, no matter how much he thought about it.

The cold didn't improve his lot any either. Despite the heater at full blast, Nick's shivering arms were proof that something in the car's climate control wasn't functioning properly. The duo sat together, parked outside the fence to the pier. Since they had arrived a half-hour ahead of schedule, they would have to wait for the other 'business associates' to make their appearance. And Nick was bored.

"So..."

Nick turned to his companion, hoping to start some type of conversation. What he found was the young dhole pulling a textbook and notebook out of his duffle bag.

"What're you doing?"

The teenager shot him a confused glance. "Homework."

That threw Nick for a loop. He brought homework to a drug deal?

"He's gotten into a few fights..." He remembered that's what Yaeli had said about Vittorio not being in school. He's on expulsion right now, isn't he?

"You still in school?" Nick eased into the topic.

Cable continued to set himself up, organizing his equipment in an accessible manner. He appeared to have not heard Nick, or was ignoring him. That was, until he clicked a pen and looked at Nick with a blank expression. "No."

A slight smile crept on to the tod's face. "That sarcasm?"

He turned back to his book, flipping to a specific page. "Maybe..." he muttered under his breath.

Nick chuckled slightly, but resorted to anxiously tapping the steering wheel while Cable returned to his self ascribed task. He mentally braced himself for how this terribly this could blow back in his face. "So Yaeli told me you've had some trouble at school..."

"What of it?" Came a sharp retort before Nick could go further.

Nick shrugged through the reaction. "Had some fights, I heard."

A huff and a shoulder roll was the dhole's response. "Just defense."

That was at least new information, and Nick could work with that. "How so? They come after you?"

"Only one," he said under his breath, before rolling his shoulders again. "Why you wanna know?"

Nick slightly raised his paws in defense. "Hey, I went through some stuff in school too. It can be rough, especially for a fox."

"I'm a dhole," Cable said plainly. "Different problems."

Nick slowly nodded and thought about his next words. He tried to think of a way to relate with him, but his lack of experience with dholes and their stereotypes made it difficult. Dholes were a rare species, even for predators which already made up a minute population of Zootopia.

"True... but-"

"Also don't talk well."

Nick's ears dropped at that and his face contorted into a frustrated grimace. "Alright..."

"And political refugee."

"OKAY!" Nick yelled as he tried to crush the steering wheel. "Wait what?"

Cable cracked his textbook open, flipped through it to a marked page, and shoved it over to the fox.

CHAPTER 12: The Rodentia/Apenni Civil War 1982-2003

"...constant struggle with an archaic feudal system..."

"...expanding central government..."

"...break out of large scale conflict..."

"...largest displacement of refugees since the Volkarian Commerce War..."

Nick's attention was pulled from the book when it was pulled from his lap. Cable didn't return Nick's gaze. Instead, he silently returned to reading the text. "Irony is my homework."

With more information, Nick's mind began to add the new pieces to the puzzle. Like every other born-and-bred Zootopian, Nick's time in the public school system had given him a basic synopsis of world history (probably out of that same textbook if Nick was honest). Part of that education had taught him about the mess that was Rodentian politics.

Networks of noble families, called Nostratis, competed and cooperated with one another over control of the nation's economy and foreign influence. A millennia of a self-defeating feudal system led to a failed attempt at reform in the early 19th century to develop a devolutionary federal system. After centuries of competition between the higher government, called the Rinforzio, and the Nostratis came to a head when the Rinforzio attempted a sudden and quick seizure of power. What followed was a massive civil war that ended with the foreign invasion of Rodentia.

"How old were you?" Nick asked in a somber tone.

Taking a moment to think, he replied with some hesitation. "Three... or four? Remember the ship. Gunfire, and jets. Lots of screaming."

Nick thought on that for a moment. Before he could inquire further, a pair of headlights blinked through the falling snow. It was soon followed by another, and another. Two SUVs and a rusted out, two door pickup truck pulled up next to each other, with the truck taking position on the left.

With a frustrated sigh, Cable slapped the book closed. "Game time." He proceeded to pack his bag and, without looking up, gave Nick some direction. "Pull up some."

He proceeded forward slowly. That gun in his pocket dug its way back into his mind. With one paw still on the wheel, he patted down his pocket, hoping to shift the weapon into another position so it didn't feel as present in his mind.

It didn't work.

"Okay, stop." Nick looked over to Cable, who was gazing across to the opposing vehicles.

Nick could see it in his eyes; he was thinking hard. Working things out, calculating an unknown number of subtle variables that Nick was entirely oblivious to. Was he concerned? Was he worried? Should Nick be worried? The longer Nick observed him, the more his concern for their collective safety grew. Three vehicles of mammals against two small canines with a couple of handguns between them weren't inspiring odds.

With a slight nod, Cable appeared to finish his thoughts and reached into his other bag. He pulled out a handgun of his own, one with a bigger receiver and longer grip. A magazine pultruded out just past the hilt of the pistol. Cable pulled the slide back racking a round into the chamber, and flipped a small tab on the side engaging the safety.

Slipping the pistol behind his waistband, he pulled his coat around him and grabbed the door. Glancing back to Nick one last time.

"Stay in here."

Nick let out a small breath of relief.

Cable got out, and walked towards the headlights. A trio of silhouettes materialized out of the snow. Two appeared to be some species of deer, the other on the right seemed to be a feline if the ears were any indication. The second thing that Nick took notice of was the gun barrel poking up over the shoulder of the deer on the left. As the three opposing gangsters moved closer, their appearances were made clear.

Big Cat on the right, was an average build white leopard. Nick figured he must've had a winterized furring, because all he was wearing was a thin dark-red jacket and an undershirt, with a pair of cargo pants in some kind of two tone green camouflage. Cradled in his arms was some type of subcompact machine pistol, minimally concealed under the jacket. He seemed to have little care if anyone saw his, mostly likely illegal, weapon.

Then again, the big buck on the left, dressed considerably warmer, clearly had a rifle or carbine of some kind slung over his back, so maybe the local dock guards were of no concern. By way of bribe or threat, Nick wasn't certain.

He also didn't know which one worried him more.

The taller buck in the middle, who stood out with a lopsided rack of horns, a blue denim jacket, grey jeans, and a bright orange and purple HDT t-shirt. Unlike the other two, however, he wielded no weapon of any kind. Instead, his hooves were casually tucked into the pockets of his jacket. Nick understood that as a clear display of confidence in one's own safety, and given the bucks acquaintances flanking him such confidence was probably warranted. What really set him apart from the others, however, was the toothy grin shining on the deer's face.

It wasn't a trouble making grin, nor that of a crazed cocaine addled drug dealer like Nick had come to expect. Despite all his less than reputable actions and misdeeds, he had yet to find himself in the drug trade, so he really didn't know what to expect from this journey.

_Certainly didn't expect a sixteen year old refugee to be my boss_, he thought.

* * *

Jacob McMean had been in the heroin business for over three decades. Since he was a young gun smuggler for the _Voluntários da Córoa_, he had slowly learned the world of contraband trade. In that time, he had witnessed a great many unusual things. One such thing in particular was doing business with a pup less than half his age.

Despite that, a _relazione_ was a _relazione_, and Jacob was going to deal with whoever was given to him. So he took a few steps forward and extended a hoof of greeting to the young pup. "Grand evenin' idn't it?"

The pup, unfazed by the Gcoynín accent, stopped rubbing his paws together and returned the gesture, completing the physical exchange of pleasantries. "Very," he casually replied.

"Bobby McMean."

"Vitto Albero."

"Sorry for bein' late," he nodded to the buck on his right. "Few greay boys got a bit nosey, if ye' know what Ey mean."

"All forgiven," the pup brushed off the apology. "You know details?"

Rather curt, for someone his age.

But he does seem to know what he's talking about. McMean casually shrugged off that thought and clicked his tongue. Ivan, the leopard on his left, turned to one of the SUVs behind him and waved.

"Yeah, oi tink so. Jist…"

A moment passed.

"...Gie me a second."

A few moments later and a lechwe doe, who looked somewhat daunted, came running up with a binder. As she handed the binder off to McMean, he furtively moved his hoof to the handgun in his pocket. Before she could walk away, she found his arm tightly wrapped around her neck and a muzzle in her face.

"Ya' make me wait ag'n, an' yer gone."

When the doe failed to reply beyond bulged eyes, he tapped her between the eyes on her forehead. "Yeah?"

She hastily nodded and scampered back to the vehicle.

He opened up the binder and flipped to a premarked page. It was a small navy blue binder, only needing two rings to hold its length. Inside were dozens of ledgers, shipment orders, receipts, manifiestos, and other mercantile paraphernalia.

"Level four shipment is twenty five kilos fer the Big's… Sum pack, er...?"

"Broken," Vitto replied.

Larger quantities of heroin, as well as other contraband, had to be carfally imported to avoid being intercepted by CED. One such method was dispersed or 'broken' drops, wherein the product was smuggled in via multiple entry points in small quantities. Typically, such methods were favored by much more powerful organizations that had the manpower and 'logistics' of large scale trafficking.

The Big Family was definitely one such organization.

"No tags, yeah?"

He nodded in response. With that information logged, now came the negations.

"How's twenty sound?"

Vitto cocked his head back, as if to think on the proposition. Wonder how much his kid knows about-

"You handle Commision paper?"

McMean grinned in amusement at the kid. Alright. He knows his stuff.

"Nah, only in de ports. Yer guys cov'r internals."

Vitto nodded, and stuck out a paw. McMean grinned and clasped the extended limb with his own. "Pleasure doin' business witcha."

Before he could fold up the binder, a paw was placed in it. McMean looked up at the young pup with a confused gaze. Although well hidden, a small jolt of fear ran through him. Had he just offended one of the most powerful Mobs in all of Zootopia?

"Off the books," Vitto muttered under his breath.

That was unexpected. An off the books request from the personal envoy of a mob boss asking for off the record business in a back alley business word was extraordinarily atypical. _And potentially very dangerous_.

"What fer?" McMean inquired.

Vitto, his paws back in his pockets, shifted side to side while keeping his head down. "Two kilos, cocaine. Put it through Port Savannah."

McMean, working past his confusion, moved on to price negotiation. "Cut?"

* * *

Nick watched from inside his automotive safe haven, as the the two illicit business mammals conducted their

affairs for several minutes. Words exchanged, gesturing, moments of pause, and a shake to finish the deal.

Vitto started to make his way back to the car. Nick, for the first time that night, finally had an improvement in mood. In fact, since it was past midnight, this was the first time all day that Nick wasn't dwelling on his potentially violent demise at the claws of a drug cartel. The young pup opened the door, dropped himself into the seat, closed the door, and turned to Nick.

The interior lighting of the car was dual and amber in tone, but Nick could still make out the gleam in his eye and fulfilment in his wide, toothy grin. "Job done."

Nick got a shot of euphoria at that. "That's it?"

"We done," he replied and tapped a fist on the dash. "Let's go!"

Nick, now a full grin on his own face, watched as their associates from the dark returned to their own vehicles and began to depart. He turned the key in their own vehicle, put it in gear, and started back the way they came.

"But we need to stop in Bucksville," he said quickly.

That confused Nick. "Wait, what? Why?"

Vitto gave him a look, as if Nick should already know this. "Union meeting in Deerbrook County?"


End file.
